Tony swung about and hastened back to his friends’ aid. Bella was kneeling beside Joe, dabbing at his face, the lower half of which appeared, in the wan light of a couple of street lamps, to be drenched in blood. As he did so, the back door opened once more, and several of the staff emerged, alerted by Bella’s screams.

"What’s happened?" "Is someone hurt?" "Jeez, it’s Griffin…" "No, both Griffins!" "You all right, Bella?" "Hey, Prito, what’s going on?"

"Do you want me to call an ambulance?" That was Andy, whose wiry, whip-thin body, merry, freckled face and long brown hair made Tony think of a monkey. Now, however, those teasing brown eyes were filled with concern.

"Wait a minute on the ambulance," Tony replied. "but maybe you could get Bella a towel or something, to wipe off the blood?" He moved to kneel beside Frank, without waiting to see if he was obeyed.

"Frank – Frank, boy – can you hear me?" Tony gently shook the elder Hardy boy’s shoulder, but Frank lay unmoving and unresponsive. Tony could see no blood on his face; whatever his injuries were, they hadn’t marked his features. "Frank? Come on, wake up…."

Andy returned with a towel, handed it to Bella, and then shepherded the other waiters and chefs back inside. "Let me know if you want me to call the medics."

At last, Frank moved his head slightly, and moaned. Tony leaned closer. "Frank?"

Dark eyes fluttered open, and Frank attempted to focus on the face hovering above him. "J-joe?"

"No, pal…it’s me, Tony. Where are you hurt?"

Frank didn’t answer in words, but his hand moved protectively toward his ribs, and he moaned again. "Where’s…Joe…?"

"He’s here." Tony glanced over at Bella, and was relieved to see that Joe was stirring. He heard a muffled groan. "How is he, Bella?"

"Bleeding…" she murmured. "His mouth’s cut up…Joe, stay still – let me look." She pressed the towel against his mouth for a moment, then gently inspected the damage. "The insides of your lips got cut on your teeth."

The younger Hardy boy propped himself on his elbows. Slowly, aided by Bella, he sat upright, and felt his jaw gingerly. He leaned over and cautiously spat out a mouthful of blood, then groaned again. "I think – m’ teeth’re loose…" he mumbled, cradling his jaw. He ran an investigative tongue around the inside of his mouth and flinched. "Ow!"

"Your teeth are loose?" Bella gasped in alarm.

"Jus’ a…couple…li’l bit….S’okay; they’ll tighten back in." Joe cradled his chin in one hand, and rubbed the back of his head fretfully with the other. "Must’ve hit my head….’S Frank hurt?"

"He doesn’t look too good," Tony admitted. "I think we’d better get you both to an emergency room—"

"No!" Frank disagreed, with surprising firmness, considering his barely-conscious state.

"But Frank—" Bella began; Joe, however, interrupted her.

"It’s th’ name thing," he mumbled through his fingers.

"They can’t go to the hospital as Frank and Joe Griffin; they don’t have identification for those names," Tony clarified for the bewildered Bella. "And they don’t want to blow their cover. We’ll have to do all the patching up ourselves. I just hope we can…." He turned back to his friend. "Frank, where do you hurt?" he asked once more.

"Here…." Frank clutched at his left side. "I think something – may have – cracked." He tried to sit up and flinched, but persisted, finally succeeding. "Maybe…they’re just bruised."

"Let’s get you inside." Tony carefully helped Frank to his feet, and put an arm about his waist. "Think you can manage the stairs up to the apartment?"

"I don’t have much choice." Frank grunted. He leaned on Tony’s shoulder. "Joe needs – an ice pack…several ice packs."

"Tony, help Frank up to the apartment." Bella directed. "I’ll take Joe into the kitchen and get him cleaned up a little, and then we’ll bring up as many ice packs as we can carry. Joe’s not the only one who needs them."

"Bella—" Tony stopped her with a gesture. "You were really something else against those hoods. I didn’t know you knew martial arts!"

"I don’t!" she confessed. "But they didn’t know that. Daddy always said that an effective weapon was not showing fear. I never had to put the advice to a test before! I guess he was right." She smiled sadly. "Living in New York all this time, and I never had a bit of trouble. And now just look…."

"You were great, Bella cara….Okay, you take Joe, and I’ll handle Frank."

Inside the kitchen, Bella had to pilot Joe carefully around scurrying staff members busy with dinners. She found a chair somewhere – the dazed Hardy boy wondered where it had come from; he didn’t remember seeing one there before! – and settled him into it gently.

"Just sit still and rest." she instructed him. "I’ll get something to wash off that blood—"

"Here," a new voice cut in. "I will do….Bella, get plastic bags, per favore, and fill them with ice."

Joe looked up to see who was talking – and blinked, stunned. The speaker was Enrico, the head chef! The little man was holding a wet towel, with which he proceeded to gently sponge the blood from Joe’s face. Joe couldn’t restrain his flinches; it hurt!

"Scusate," Enrico murmured. "I’m sorry to hurt you." Before Joe could manage a reply, the chef continued speaking in a low tone. "Perhaps you were not so wrong, after all, Joe Griffin…about the rats at Marco’s. But the rats you met up with had two legs, not four…."

Joe met the man’s dark, concerned gaze, and managed a slight grin, despite the pain it cost him. "Yeah…."

"Joe, do you think you can make it up the stairs now?" Bella hurried up to them, holding a large plastic grocery sack full of quickly-manufactured ice packs. "Enrico, thank you so much…."

"Ma certemente," he replied. "Take good care of him, Bella mia." Enrico assisted Joe to his feet. "Sleep now," he advised. "Sleep until time to come to work tomorrow."

"I’ll try," Joe mumbled, and again laid a hand against his jaw. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

 

When they arrived at the apartment, they found Tony hovering over Frank, who was stretched limply on top of his bed.

"Do you hurt anywhere else?" Tony was asking with concern. "Or is it just your ribs?"

"My shoulders ache, but that’s just from my arms being twisted. It’s mostly the ribs…." Frank replied tiredly.

"Aspirin." Bella pronounced from the hallway. Tony turned and grinned at her, and Frank summoned what he devoutly hoped was a smile. "You need something stronger than that; but if you won’t see a doctor for a prescription, aspirin will have to do."

Joe was just now getting a good look at his older brother. Leaving his cousin’s support, he hurried over to Frank’s side. "You look like hell…" he observed, laying a hand on Frank’s shoulder.

"If you think I look bad, try looking in the mirror," Frank retorted; despite the joking words, his dark eyes were shadowed with concern. "Your jaw’s going to be the size of a softball in an hour, if you don’t get some ice on it right away."

"Frank, what was all that about, anyway?" Joe inquired, sitting down on the edge of Frank’s bed and ignoring the commentary on his appearance. "Another robbery attempt?"

"Not a chance!" Frank growled. "They checked to make sure I was one of the ‘Griffin’ brothers – and they then told me to get away from Marco’s and stay away. With emphasis, I might add!" He gingerly massaged his sore ribs.

"Uh-oh!" Tony’s eyebrows shot up. "Your cover isn’t blown – but it didn’t need to be! Whoever it is didn’t care who you were; it was the fact that you’re checking the finances?"

"Apparently." Frank made a face. "Which means that there’s something someone wants to remain hidden."

Bella had made a hasty trip to the bathroom, and now returned bearing two glasses of water and a large bottle of Advil capsules, which she carefully doled out to the two brothers. Meanwhile, Tony had removed the ice packs from the shopping bag. He now headed to the bathroom, and came back with a couple of bath towels. He wrapped several of the zippered bags of ice in one, and positioned it carefully against Frank’s left side.

"How’s that feel?" He repeated his actions with the second towel.

"Cold." Frank tried to grin. He wriggled a bit, settling himself a little more comfortably against the pillows Bella had stacked behind his head, and his eyelids drooped. "I’m really tired…" he murmured.

"Joe, come on out to the living room." Bella was taking charge again. "You can lie down on the couch and keep ice on your face. Tony’s going to stay in here with Frank." She marched out without waiting to see if he complied.

"Bossy, isn’t she?" Joe quipped, and obediently followed. But before he had gone more than two steps….

"Joe – wait!" Frank opened his eyes again. "Call Dad and tell him what happened. And stress that we’re okay! But tell him we need complete backgrounds on Alexander Harrington. And Dominic Scarpetti…."

* * * * *

Some time later, Joe awoke with a start. He blinked, trying to remember where he was; then the coldness along his jaw line recalled him to the evening’s past events, and why he was lying on the couch. Somebody hired those creeps to jump Frank!

He shifted, and gingerly touched his swollen jaw; tentatively slid his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. Ouch! Bella had suggested he hold an ice cube inside his mouth in an attempt to numb the cut areas, but it had melted quickly, and the relief was short-lived.

"Joe? Are you all right?"

Joe turned his head and beheld his cousin sitting across the room from him, a magazine lying in her lap. "I think so." He lifted his arm to squint at his wristwatch. "Wha’ time’s it?"

"Nearly midnight. You’ve been asleep quite a while. Can I get you anything? You can have more aspirin if you want it."

"Unh-unh. ‘M fine for now. Maybe later." Joe let his thoughts range back to his telephone conversation with his father. Fenton had been concerned and worried at first, over the attack, then angry. He promised to get Frank the information on Alexander Harrington and Dominic Scarpetti as soon as he could the next day. Laura had wanted to come over to the apartment and take care of her sons, but realized that visiting Frank and Joe "Griffin" might cause some questions. Still, she was upset at the turn of events, and made Joe promise to call her in the morning with an update.

The most amazing thing about the call, though, was the news that Fenton had shared: Laura’s encounter with Dominic Scarpetti at the house – followed by her visit to Antonio Scarpetti’s!

"Tony still in with Frank?" Joe inquired now. If he was careful, it didn’t hurt too much to talk.

"Yes." Bella smiled. "Joe – do you think Tony likes me?"

Joe grinned, then winced. Smiling hurt more than talking. "I think he likes you a lot, Tinkerbelle."

"I like him, too." she admitted.

"No regular boyfriend here in New York?" Joe asked. He wasn’t sure which way he wanted Bella to answer. He didn’t want to squash a blossoming romance, but…Tinkerbelle and Tony?

"Are you kidding?" She laughed ruefully. "I had an Italian father, remember? When my first date arrived to pick me up – I was only 15 then – Daddy had made sure that he was sitting in the living room and sharpening his knife collection! Paring knives, butcher knives, boning knives, carving knives…I think he even had a cleaver there!"

"Uh-oh!" Joe chuckled. "I don’t envy your date!" He was glad Vanessa’s father wasn’t alive to do something like that – and Mr. Morton had always liked him….

"I was so mortified. I wanted to drop through the floor." She smiled wistfully. "But I wish now that Daddy was here to do that for every date I go on…." Tears brimmed in her eyes, but didn’t quite fall.

"Want Frank or me to do it?" Joe quipped, trying to lighten the situation.

"No thanks." She laughed. "I’m glad you don’t have a knife collection."

"Tony wouldn’t be scared of either of us anyway," Joe admitted. He sobered. "Tinkerbelle, something’s going on, you know. No matter how much you try to deny it, there’s something shady at Marco’s, or with someone associated with Marco’s."

"I know, Joe." She nodded. "But no one has told me why! Why did I never know about you or your family? Why did Uncle Dom ask me to keep his visits a secret from my mother, after Daddy died?"

Joe wiggled his sore jaw, winced, and struggled to sit up. I knew this was going to come up sometime…why me? "I just heard it myself, a few days ago. Let’s see if I can remember all the details…."

* * * * *

Frank Hardy lay half-dozing; unwilling to make the effort to move, not wanting to wake up badly enough to risk the pain . After a moment or two, he heard the rustle of movement, then voices speaking softly near him: Bella and Tony.

"How is he?" Bella whispered.

"He’s been asleep all this time. Bella, it’s nearly two a.m.; why don’t you go sack out in my room? Joe doesn’t need you sitting and watching him sleep!"

"We were talking; he’s just gone back to sleep." Frank heard her yawn. "Are you sure? You’ll try to sleep too, won’t you? On Joe’s bed?"

"Yes, but I’m going to stay awake for a little while yet; Frank’s due for some more painkiller."

"Okay….Good night, Tony." Again Frank heard movement. Curiosity overcame lethargy, and he lifted his lashes just enough to see Bella step closer to Tony; close enough to tiptoe and brush his cheek with her lips. The elder Hardy smiled a little, and let his eyes drift closed again….

"Good night, cara mia." Tony breathed.

"You know a lot of pretty Italian phrases, don’t you?" she chuckled, then. "I’ve never heard an American boy throw so much Italian around."

"I don’t know all that many. I’ve been trying to remember every single one I ever knew."

When Bella had departed, Frank forced his eyes open once more. "Smooth moves, Prito," he murmured.

Tony whirled toward the bed, his cheeks flaming in the dim light from the bedside table lamp. "Frank!" He kept his voice low, but his shock was evident.

"Don’t worry; I’m not objecting." Frank gave up the pretense of sleep and shifted, then winced.

"Take it easy," his friend cautioned him, his embarrassment forgotten. "I’ll get you some more aspirin."

Frank wanted to stay awake, wanted to ask about Joe, wanted to think about his attackers and their motives, wanted to cogitate over the ramifications of their investigation…but a few minutes after swallowing the capsules Tony brought him, the elder Hardy boy slipped into welcome, painless sleep once more.

* * * * *

Frank awoke first. He blinked at his watch, registering the time as 8:43, then lifted his head and looked around the room. Tony was sprawled on Joe’s bed, breathing heavily, deep in slumber. Frank tried sitting up, and found it was do-able, if he took things slowly. Bruises, that’s all…I knew I was all right…. He pushed away the now-tepid plastic bags, carefully swung his feet to the floor, and got to his feet.

Walking down the short hallway, he glanced into the room Tony had been supposed to occupy, and saw Bella curled up on the bed, sound asleep. When he reached the living room, he found Joe stretched out on the couch. His eyes were closed, but at Frank’s approach, he stirred and opened them.

"Mornin’," the younger boy murmured. "How’re y’doin’?"

"Not too bad," Frank assured him. "What about you?"

Joe tentatively touched his jaw, which Frank could see had developed an ugly-looking bruise overnight. "I’m okay – but I want something soft for breakfast."

Frank eased himself into a chair. "Did you talk to Dad last night?"

"Uh-huh." Joe sat up. "He said he’ll get the information on Harrington and Dominic Scarpetti as soon as possible." He hesitated. "Frank, I told Bella the whole story."

"You did?"

"She asked," Joe defended himself. "She wanted to know why she’d never heard of us! I just told her what Mom and Dad told us the other day!"

"Well, she had to know sometime, I suppose." Frank sighed. "Was she okay with it?"

"She was unhappy to hear that her dad’s family is so notorious…and she’s still convinced that Dominic is an okay guy. It’ll take more than circumstantial evidence for her to believe anything bad about Uncle Dom."

"Well, we don’t have any proof of anything against him yet." Frank admitted. "But I sure want to get back into those books today, and find out what it is I’ve been warned about finding!" He managed a weak laugh.

"You sure you’re up to it?" Joe asked, worriedly.

"Nope – but I’m going to do it anyway." was his brother’s reply. Frank got up slowly and went into the kitchen where the wall telephone hung. Glancing at the pad of paper on the counter, he dialed a number carefully. "Dad? It’s Frank….yeah, I’m all right, just kind of sore. Have you found out anything yet on…you have?" Frank chuckled. "Sam Peterson came through for us again, hmmm? What did you find out?" He listened for a few moments, jotting notes on the pad as he did so. "Okay – thanks!" Another pause. "No, he didn’t tell me anything….She what?"

Joe grinned and winced; he knew what information his father had just unloaded on his elder brother.

"That’s absolutely…what possessed Mom to do something like that? Well, but still!….Yeah, I’m going down to start work in just a few minutes. I’ll take my cell phone with me this time, so call that number if you find anything more out, will you? Give my love to Mom….bye."

The elder Hardy hung up the receiver and looked at his impatiently-waiting brother. "Did you know about Mom? About her going to see Antonio Scarpetti?"

"Uh-huh, Dad told me last night." Joe confirmed. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Cool? More like dangerous!" Frank sputtered. But he had to smile. "Mom’s got a lot of courage, facing up to that guy." He glanced at the scribbled notes. "Dad found out something very interesting about Alexander Harrington. He’s evidently been working with Antonio Scarpetti for years. Nothing illegal, mind you – everything is always on the up-and-up – but Harrington’s in his pocket. That loan Alex made to Marco and Linda, when the restaurant was remodeled – well, it looks like the money came from Antonio Scarpetti."

Joe’s eyes widened. "He really is working for Scarpetti, then? That puts him in an awfully suspicious light, doesn’t it?"

"Working with, not necessarily working for," Frank emphasized. "But I’m going to keep it in mind." He walked carefully toward the door. "I’m going to go down and start working on those files again. There’s got to be something there."

Joe, although he wanted to comment on Frank’s mussed appearance, nodded. "I’m going to go take a shower, and then try to find something I can manage to eat for breakfast." He was heading for the bathroom when he halted in surprise. "Bella! Good morning!"

"Hi, Joe." His cousin was standing in the doorway of the single bedroom, sleepily rubbing her eyes. "Are you feeling all right?" Without waiting for a reply, she stepped into the hallway. "Frank, wait a minute, don’t leave without something to eat!"

Frank reluctantly turned back. "Okay, okay," he sighed. "But I want to make it fast."

"It will be," Bella reassured him, laughing softly. "The only things I can make decently are cold cereal and toast!"

Joe managed a chuckle as he stepped into the bedroom he was sharing with his brother. He quietly grabbed some fresh clothing from his suitcase, trying hard not to waken the sleeping Tony, and headed for the bathroom.

 

When Frank left the apartment, Bella sat down on the couch. Although she had said nothing to her cousins, she had overheard Frank’s report to Joe on Alexander Harrington. Her mind was whirling with what she had heard. How could Alex be involved? Sure, he was interested in owning the restaurant, but would he resort to murder in order to get it? And what was this about him working for her grandfather Scarpetti? She couldn’t fathom it – but then, she couldn’t fathom anyone killing her mother, for any reason.

Her eyes drifted closed. It was still fairly early, and she hadn’t gotten much sleep. I’ll catnap here on the couch while Joe’s in the shower – then maybe he can give me a lift home, so I can change….

No sooner than she had dozed off, however, then she was jerked awake by the sound of the door opening. Her eyes flew open. Had Frank returned for some forgotten item? Blearily, she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Her heart rate quickened, for she suddenly realized that it was not her cousin who had entered the apartment, but Alexander Harrington!

Bella screamed – for in Harrington’s right hand was the .38 special he had purchased after Marco’s death…and it was pointed directly at her!

Sparks and Evergreen don't own the Hardy Boys characters, they belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation, We've just borrowed them for an adventure or two. We will put them back when we're done with them. We do claim copyright to the original characters and themes in this story. Please do not borrow them without the expressed permission of the authors.